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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763104">cherry flavored conversations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kaspe'>kaspe (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Hanbrough, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Karaoke, Language, M/M, New Year's Kiss, New Years, benverly!, big losers party, but theyre legal, stanpat!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:28:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kaspe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's stupid, Eddie thinks briefly, to be watching people shout Mayday Parade drunkenly into a karaoke mic that gives far too much feedback from the speakers. He wouldn't want New Years any different.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cherry flavored conversations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title - cherry flavored, the neighbourhood</p><p>uh yeah its august and im writing something that takes place in dec/jan because im sad and yearning for winter again,,,,,,,, unfortunate huh? i miss these boys a lot im so sad.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winter break always had its pros and cons, especially in Los Angeles. For one, it wasn't freezing like New York, it doesn't feel pushed together and claustrophobic, and parties. Parties were fantastic in California. That is, of you got invited and actually had the energy to go. Eddie liked to party, duh, he's a college student, but he usually thought about the aftermath. </p><p>Eddie could hold his alcohol for a while, really. However, that wouldn't always be a well-thought idea because mornings that followed weren't the best. Mike, his roommate, and best friend <em>ever, </em>knew where the best of parties were, his boyfriend would invite him quite frequently. </p><p>They'd moved into an apartment as quickly as they could, agreeing there was no fucking way they'd go back to New York for all breaks until they had their own place, so they made do in a studio apartment. </p><p>It's a quiet New Years' Eve, and Eddie never had plans for the night, to begin with. So it's unexpected when Mike looks up from his phone from where they lay on the sofa watching a stupid show on Netflix that isn't interesting at all. Though they're not paying attention to it, just having it for background noise and something to laugh at, because the plot and writing are <em>"Actually shit," </em>Eddie will say through a laugh. </p><p>"Hey, uh," Mike begins, waiting for Eddie to acknowledge and react. "Bill's having a party..." he says and leaves the sentence open in hopes Eddie is open to go. Mike surely knows him well enough, yeah, but just to be sure, you know? </p><p>"Like, tonight?" Eddie asks muffled by chips. He has manners, he just didn't want to leave Mike waiting for his response, okay? Mike nods hesitantly, glancing at his phone then back up at Eddie, who wears a considering expression. </p><p>"Okay, let's go," he responds far too easily. But what's the worst that can happen at a New Years' party? Getting drunk? Yes please, count Eddie Kaspbrak and Mike Hanlon, and whoever else decides to party with them in. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They arrive at Bills apartment as it's nearing nine. It isn't far, either, considering almost everything in Los Angeles is at least a fucking hour away. That's exaggerating, Eddie simply doesn't like long-distance drives. </p><p>The complex is pretty big, truthfully, they ride the elevator up five floors. Before the two of them know it, they're standing outside Bill's door and being greeted by a girl with shoulder-length ginger locks with a pink strand in the underside of her hair and choppy bangs that simply suit her. </p><p>"Hi, Mike!" she exclaims and pulls him into a hug. Eddie can see the inside only slightly, colorful disco lights, and decent music playing. Not that he has anything against Lil Peep, much less <em>Gym Class. </em></p><p>"Bev, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Bev," Mike introduces them to each other as it's probably the least he can do. "Hi, Eddie!" Beverly says and hugs him like she's known him for years. Beverly ushers them inside with a small laugh and a smile that never fades. </p><p>There are six other people in the room, which is fantastic. No, really, Eddie would rather be tight-knit with people he barely met, than loosely dancing and giggling behind cups with at least, like, seventy strangers.  </p><p>He's known Bill for months, for as long as he and Mike have been dating. So it isn't awkward when a tipsy Bill throws himself onto Eddie after placing a sloppy kiss on Mikes' cheek. "Hey, Ed," he smiles dopily as he leans against the kitchen island with a mixed drink in hand. "You want a-anything? I can get Richie to f-f-fix somethin' up for you." Bill offers as Mike pulls his arm over his shoulders. </p><p>He shakes his head, all the while Eddie had no clue who Richie was, so that didn't help this scenario. Could've been any other man in this room that obviously wasn't Bill or Mike. Either the jock-looking-football-player; the man with black, curly hair, and an obnoxious shirt with glasses too big for his face (presumably a stereotypical nerd, but cuter), or the <em>other</em> curly-headed man, who had a girl with caramel skin and a big smile under his arm. </p><p>Bill must've caught the confused look on his face, choking out a snort before bringing the cup to his lips, taking another sip. "Sss'ry," Bill mumbles and turns to the living room that is connected to the kitchen. Eddie and Mike exchange a humorous glance that turns the corners of their lips up. </p><p>To be completely honest, Eddie isn't surprised that Bill forgot what his conversation was going to be about. <em>He tends to do that,</em> Mike says sometimes. Mostly because he's a lightweight, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just easier to forget fun moments. God, probably a good thing, actually, because then he won't remember the embarrassing ones. Yeah. </p><p>A song that vaguely reminds Eddie of Frank Ocean begins to play, and the three of them light up at the sound. It's a warming-and-nostalgiac-feeling-type-song, and Bill drags Mike over to the living room where a large speaker sits in the corner of the room. </p><p>"C'mon, Eddie!" Mike urges from a distance. It isn't that Eddie is uncomfortable with the people or space here. Hell, you can't even count the parties he's been to, you think he cares? This is the matter of them all knowing each other, including Mike, so it's only normal for Eddie to feel like the odd-ball out. Eddie follows Mike to the living room and flops himself on the (essentially) empty, two-person sofa, left of the four-person one. Wrong, there is nothing and no one on it other than Eddie and a bright orange beanie. </p><p>Eddie nurses the beer Mike pitifully gave him before being pulled away. It's tangy- maybe a mix of berries. A few of them spin and throw their heads back to sing along, but then the couch dips opposite of where Eddie sits. He feels the itch to look over when he begins to feel eyes on him, burning into his head. So he does. </p><p>The man with the black and curly hair with that stupid shirt and glaring glasses, wears a small smile, looking to begin a conversation. Eddie gives in, because he's taught to be polite, and... and he's cute, so, Eddie shouldn't let this opportunity down. </p><p>"This party will get fun, trust me," the man jokes, "Bev just needs to loosen up a little more, give her, like, a few more drinks. I'm tellin' ya, she's the life of the party." he adds over the music, having to lean into Eddie only slightly. "She already looks like a lot of fun," Eddie gives a close-lipped smile, which is true, shes got her arms on Mikes' shoulders, shaking them with the rhythm of the song as she sings loudly. "She is." the man says as he briefly examines Eddies' face before the man continues by saying, "So, what's your name, cutie?" </p><p>Now, Eddie isn't usually one for pet-names or whatever-names, but he'll take what he gets and <em>this</em>- yeah, <em>this</em>. </p><p>"Eddie. Yours?" </p><p>"Richie Tozier at your service, darling," </p><p>Eddie scoffs, "Do you always do that?" he asks Richie, referring to the names. Richie shrugs, "Just a thing I do." </p><p>Understandable. </p><p>"I can fix you something better than that," Richie nods to the drink in Eddies' hand. He's hardly even sipped it, it leaves a weird aftertaste that makes Eddie's tastebuds buzz and sting, pray to God he isn't allergic to this. </p><p>So, as predicted, Eddie follows Richie to the kitchen. The drink is a mix of something-something this and something-something cherry that, Eddie hardly paid much attention, but it tasted really good. Like, a weird-tangy-thing, but, <em>good</em>. And Richie made himself a cup, too. </p><p>They're back on the couch, talking about college and Los Angeles as a whole (as they both coincidentally go to UCLA). Eddie feels like he's known Richie for a lifetime; like he's <em>supposed to. </em>They can laugh so easily with each other, hands softly hitting shoulders or knees at responses or comments made. "You have girls all over you, I bet," Eddie remarks casually. He actually means to imply something else, <em>hopes</em> for a response opposite of a "normal" answer. </p><p>Richie laughs almost nervously and licks his lips, jerking his head to the side as he adjusts how he's sitting, bringing his knee close to his chest.</p><p>"Well, uh- no, not- uh... not girls," Richie replies and meets Eddie's eyes with flushed cheeks, maybe it's the lighting. "Not that I sleep around with guys, or whatever. I mean, I don't hook up with them, I'm just not into girls." He adds almost immediately, which brings Eddie to laugh a little bit. However, Eddie still nods like he understands, although the only boyfriend he's had was back in junior year before Eddie broke it off right before spring break. Shit, Eddie doesn't sleep around either, no fucking way, he just- God, whatever. </p><p>"Yeah, most of them are drunk frat boys, anyway," Eddie quips, to which Richie jabs playfully with, "Oh, and <em>you'd</em> know." </p><p>Eddie giggles, "Shut up." He rolls his eyes. </p><p>"Make me, Eds." </p><p>Then, there's a moment of eyes, simple eyes. Until Richie's lips quirk into a smile that, much like Beverly, never falters. Eddie rolls his eyes, and he doesn't think he's ever rolled them this much, especially while pretending to be annoyed. Truthfully, he's charmed. Eddie swears his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head if he's around Richie for longer than a few minutes, always like his mother warned. Anyway, the nickname almost throws Eddie off. How odd is it that there's a nickname <em>for</em> a nickname? He hardly ever considered it until Mike called him Ed for the first time. But <em>Eds?</em> The fuck was that? He was close to making a comment against it, but...</p><p>"Quit making googly eyes and do karaoke with me, Rich!" A voice calls from near the TV, all the others somewhat gathered near and laughing softly. More alcohol coursing through them. </p><p>"Stanny, Stanny, always ruining my moment," Richie shakes his head sarcastically. "Hold this for me, babe?" he asks Eddie and hands his cup over, and Eddie takes it with a burning face and the feeling of butterflies going absolutely ballistic in his stomach. They bicker over what song to do, or which artist and album, Eddie can only wonder what kind of music they mutually like. They're a really cool group, all of them, so he wouldn't put modern alternative/indie rock against them. Thank God. </p><p>After a while (and Beverly yelling at them that they "Hurry up and agree on something!"), they inevitably pick something. It happens to be <em>Dear Maria, Count Me In,</em> and Eddie doesn't complain, no, because 2000's rock was very enjoyable while it came from a small radio in your room and echoed in your tiny room in a tiny apartment in the big city of New York. </p><p>They start a note late and everyone bursts into laughter. The two soon reach the end of the song, which Stan headbangs and Richie jumps around at. Stan wounds up switching with Bev when Richie says he wants to do <em>Jamie All Over. </em>It's stupid, Eddie thinks briefly, to be watching people shout Mayday Parade drunkenly into a karaoke mic that gives far too much feedback from the speakers. He wouldn't want New Years any different. </p><p>Richie puts on his best impersonation of Derek Sanders- any 2000's rock singer that enunciates nearly every syllable- and grips the microphone as he <em>passionately yells</em> into it. They'll definitely get a noise complaint, but oh well. "Sunsets never were so bright, and the skies, never so blue!" the accuracy is so scary, Eddie considers Richie has actually practiced that kind of voice while singing these songs. </p><p>The last few beats hit and Bev moves her head with it, and giggles afterward. "Thank you, thank you!" Richie raises his hands and takes a bow, "I'll be here all night!" and Eddie has to put his cup over his mouth to hide how wide he's smiling. <em>This is so fucking stupid, Eddie Kaspbrak, what has gotten into you?</em> Eddie thinks.</p><p>The others go and sing together, taking turns and going several rounds until Bens' voice is beginning to go hoarse. Richie, Eddie, Patty, and Mike do a few shots of tequila, faces scrunching afterward in distaste. Then of course, "Eds, come sing with me!" Richie says into the mic, and it booms around the house, all attention on him. "If you didn't call me that, I would," Eddie snaps back, no heat in his tone. </p><p>"Okay, <em>Eddie</em>, sing with me, please?" </p><p>He considers turning him down just for shits and giggles, but he actually <em>wants</em> to, so he does. "Fine," he agrees to this bullshit. He hasn't done karaoke since <em>maybe</em> middle school with Mike. </p><p>Richie pumps his fist in the air and sets the mic down for a moment. "What do you wanna do?" Richie asks Eddie, and immediately he recommends <em>Since U Been Gone. </em>Richie chuckles and points to him and says, "I like the way you think." even though that was probably the only thing he'd suggested all night. Fuck it, they're all drunk. </p><p>"All right, ladies and gents, anyone who wants to sing with us is stuck doing 2000's hits, sorry," Richie says, which is true considering that's all the two of them have sung all night.</p><p>The song starts and they go into a fit of giggles, then Bill is putting the flashlight on his phone in the air and swaying his arm lazily. This is so fucking stupid, but the most fun he's had in a while. Eddie is actually trying to keep up with the words on the TV, while Richie jerks his whole body in a swaying-type dance as he mumbles few parts that he knows. </p><p>"The words are on the fucking screen, Richie," Eddie says quickly between lines, then continues the line of <em>"Yeah, yeah, since you been gone," </em></p><p>Richie decidedly follows the words, then reaches his limp arm out to Eddie, who takes his hand for a few lines. <em>Dramatic</em>. "But since you been gone, I can breathe for the first time!" Richie lets go of Eddie's hand and gets on his hands and knees in front of Stan, placing his free hand on Stans' knee and practically screaming at him. Eventually, he gets up and goes back to Eddie, whose mind is swimming right now. </p><p>He goes behind Eddie and wraps an arm around his shoulders, directing him in a soft yet sloppy sway, it consists of stumbling feet and slurred words with mic cords looping and tucking. </p><p>At some point in the song (maybe the end), Richie tries to shove the microphone in his mouth which- <em>ew</em>. Thus the line their one goes something like: "Thanks to you, now I get what I <em>waaaaoogghhh</em>," shuffling them all into hysterics. Heads thrown back and cheeks burning from how much laughter they'd been doing all night. Eddie smacks his arm playfully, too. </p><p>Then, after more drinks and pizza and wings, talking, dancing, singing, and <em>holy shit, </em>it's 11:58 PM. The eight of them gather near the TV as the countdown starts, hooting and hollering to get riled up. Beverly and Bill have confetti poppers because of course, they do. Richie makes grabby hands to Bev, silently asking for one. She turns him down because, "You won't twist it the right way, Richie. It'll either go wrong or end up in your face."</p><p>
  <em>Ten... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nine...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eight...</em>
</p><p>The six others grab their partner's hand in what might be anticipation or <em>shit, we're going into another year and I'm doing it with you. </em>Either way, Richie and Eddie cheers their cups and down the final bit of their cherry concoction. They missed a few seconds. </p><p>
  <em>Four...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Three...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two...</em>
</p><p>Bev and Bill grip the poppers like their life might fucking depend on it, which is funny, really. And this might be the most clear-yet-drunk-yet-extremely-dramatic New Years that Eddie has experienced. At the time being, Eddie remembered everything, as much as he thought he wouldn't. Nevertheless, Eddie knows tomorrow is going to be <em>hell</em>. Absolute hell. </p><p>
  <em>One...</em>
</p><p>Oh, shit, it's New Years.</p><p>And because it's New Years, everyone kisses. Well, everyone that <em>has</em> someone <em>to</em> kiss, you know, because those people are <em>actually</em> in a relationship. Eddie and Richie just... stand there with hoarse throats and nervous smiles. Eddie turns to Richie as they meet halfway, they've got this glimmer in their eyes that's gotta... that's gotta say something. Instead, Eddie takes a look at the balcony and the lights that flash colorfully and... and.</p><p>He drags Richie to the balcony, leaving the door slightly open. The view is gorgeous, there are so many lights and so much booming and <em>wow</em>. Eddie looks up at Richie, only to smile shyly. "You've got a shit ton of confetti in your hair," Eddie comments, hands reaching up to Richie's curls, picking a few away slowly as Richie replies. "Yeah, that would've happened if I had one or not." </p><p>They meet eyes momentarily, then Eddie loses Richies for a second as he glances at Eddies' lips. He pokes his tongue out to wet them quickly, eyes tracing Richies following movement a second later. Eddie keeps his hands in Richie's hair, only to drag them down to cup his jaw. Somehow, Richie's hands were already at the back of his neck. </p><p>Their lips meet halfway when Richie goes down and Eddie goes up. Sort of an awkward angle with Richie's glasses, but Eddie doesn't care. Because he is on Bill Denbroughs fucking balcony kissing Richie goddamn Tozier on New Years. They pull away after what feels like hours, small smiles growing wider as they separate and get a better look at each other. </p><p>Loud clapping and cheering emerge from inside, they see all six of them cupping their hands around their mouths and cheering loudly, Patty catcalling and Ben applauding. The two choke out a laugh and look back at each other, then Richie to the group inside, their hands still on each other.</p><p>"Always intrudin' on me, lass!" Richie shakes his head, the words crossing between British and Irish. They face each other, gaze lingering before Eddie surges up and kisses him again, softly. "You taste like cherries," Richie huffs out a laugh. "You too. I like cherries," Eddie mumbles against his lips, fighting a giggle bound to escape his throat. </p><p>This night was so cliche. The type of cliche in romance movies that Eddie hates. But, fuck it, this could be the only exceptional movie (not being narcissistic). No matter how many parties they'll go to together, they won't ever let up their cherry-flavored conversations that started it all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>bruh its like 2 am eeeeerrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkk i miss them so much. one shots might be the only thing ill be writing and doing during school i just </p><p> </p><p>blinks...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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